I’ve read so many self-deprecating writer speak that it ceases to be funny. “I’m not any good.” “I write crap.” “No one likes my work.” “Why am I doing this?”

Stop the madness, because personally I’m sick of it. And don’t get all up on your high horses, “Humph. Who does Dahlia think she is?” Nope, don’t even go there because I used to feel the same way. Let’s take a look.

Do you:

Whimper and cringe as each word appears on the page, knowing deep in your writerly heart that there’s no way that word “apple” you just wrote, will past muster with the frowning, critical public?

Weep at editor’s marks, not seeing them as a helpful improvement, but as a branding of how awful your writing is?

Say, “I can’t believe I just wrote that. People will think I’m a horrible person.”

Welcome to the world of self-deprecating writers. Have a seat. Sit down. Have a drink. Now that you know you’re there, here’s how to get out of it.

Remember Steve Harvey’s crap book/movie “Act like a Lady, Think like a Man?” Well, I can’t stand anything about Steve Harvey, but even a broken-ass clock is right twice a day. The grain of truth in this title can certainly be applied to writers.

“Treat your writing like a man treats his d*ck”

This is a bare bones joke, but you’ll get the meaning:

An elephant gets a thorn caught in his foot, and a mouse happens to pull it out. To show his gratitude, the elephant says he’ll do any favor that the mouse wants. The mouse says “I’ve always wanted to f**k an elephant”. The elephant says o.k., the mouse lifts the elephants tail and starts going to town. About that time a coconut falls out of a tree and bonks the elephant on the head. The elephant says “Ow!”, and the mouse says something like … “That’s right, bitch, you’re going to take it no matter how much it hurts!”

That mouse just KNEW he was packing a heavy package.

I have two boys, and from the time they knew what was going on between their legs, it was like a pop gun to them. When those pants came off, the fun began. “Pew, pew!” they’d say, grabbing it and running around pointing it at everyone. It got to the point where my daughter (in between them in age) bumped her crotch on something and cried, “I hurt my penis.” The influence is strong, folks. Not only could you pee on the run, but you could shoot people with it. How handy!

While I am not a man, I’m married to one and asked him about the mystery of the penis. Men love their penises, he told me. They even let them take the lead in decision making every once in the while.

I was amazed. The penis, making life-altering decisions? That just goes to show how very valued and important they are.

Which brings me back to your writing. No matter how big, how small your writing may be, you need to treat it like the best thing that you’ve ever done on paper. Of course, it can always get better, but those words on the screen are pretty darn good right now. Because they’re THERE.

I had a dream that I had lunch with George W. Bush. (He’s a friend in my head, by the way.) He looks like the type who would bring his own bottle to a lunch and pick up the tab without hesitation. Anyhoo, he and I were having lunch (at a very nice restaurant, by the way,) and he said to me, “As long as you act like you know what you’re doing, people will believe anything you say.”

I.Kid.You.Not. That’s what W said to me. And why shouldn’t I listen to a two-term President? Bonus points: He has a penis.

So, writers. Treat your art like your very own penis. Adore it, love it, find ways to make it better. Polish it, rub it down, make it happy. Above all, do not denigrate or belittle it. As you do, others will follow suit. Once you do this, you will gain more confidence. You will gain more creativity. You will become true to your art and will be so much better for it.